Winter

The sky hangs heavy with silence and frost,

The world counts the rules, and the warmth feels lost.

Where safety once spoke in the language of care,

Now fear wears a mask and linger in air.

Each morning I wake to a colder refrain,

The hum of the headlines etched into my brain.

The circle of trust has narrowed and thinned,

Even the sunlight now feels disciplined.

I sing the forms, I nod, I comply,

While something within me learns how to die.

They call it protection; I call it survive -

A season of stillness, a will to stay alive.

Yet under the ice, a pulse remains true,

A whisper of spring breaking quietly through.